My friends kids left for sleepaway camp this week. She is a wreck. She can't sleep at night. It's a comination of guilt and worry.
When I was in the fourth grade, I was in the Girl Scouts. By force, not choice. We went on a camping trip. The first night I cried like a baby. The next day my mother had to drive out (a whole 25 miles away!) and get me.
I'm a homebody. I never liked sleeping out. When I would sleep at my friend's or my cousin's house, just across the street, I would often get up in the middle of the night and walk home. I like my own bed, my own house, my own things.
I prefer staying home to going almost anywhere. I hate hotels and motels, I hate sleeping in strange beds, showering in strange showers. I'm not a very good guest.
I like home. I like being able to do my own thing. I have this routine that needs to be followed every morning like clockwork, lest my day get shot to hell before it even starts. I don't want to eat breakfast or wake up on someone else's schedule. I don't like your Lactaid milk or your sugar frosted cookie crunch cereal or the way your toaster works. I don't like that you watch Regis in the morning instead of CNN and that I can't hang around in boxers and a t-shirt before I am ready to shower. I want to prop my feet up on my own coffee table while I read the paper and do my business in my own bathroom.
I'm all about having total control over my own world. That night at girl scout camp I was in enemy territory. There was also the fact that I had no friends and spent most of the time by myself, swatting away bugs and tripping over dead things in the woods. This was before there were a ton of movies that detailed all the ways in which people get gored to death at sleepaway camps. Had Jason been around then, I would have refused to come out of my sleeping bag at all.
I still hate Ms. Grippo for pointing out to everyone that I was being a little baby and had to go home cause I missed my mommy. I hate her for making that chasm between myself and everyone else even deeper. I hated her then because her daughters were beautiful and smart and popular and she herself looked like an 18 year old hooker. She probably still does. I'm sure she's a botox queen, wherever she is.
I did miss my mommy. So what. I still miss her when she goes away. Yea, she annoys the hell out of me most times, but she's my mommy, you know?
So when Natalie called me from Cleveland this morning and cried because she misses me, I gave her all the sympathy I could.
She misses her mommy.